About New York; Of Metaphysics And the Making Of Useful Things

By DOUGLAS MARTIN

Published: December 16, 1989

In India, that ancient land of cults, a new belief system has sprouted in recent years. Adherents, called Redmondians, follow the teachings of the one they call the Cosmic Puppeteer.

The central scripture is a 5,000-word paid advertisement placed in this newspaper by Sanford Redmond in 1980. It elucidated a Theory of Nature, suggesting that man might not be much smarter - or fundamentally in much more control of things - than, say, a rock, because everything is essentially made of the same particles and governed by the same uncontrollable forces.

On a recent morning, Mr. Redmond, who regards the cult with wry amusement, fielded one call from an Indian disciple, but for the most part his mind was elsewhere. A 65-year-old inventor and tycoon, he was in command of his hectic factory on the fourth floor of an industrial building in a dismal corner of the South Bronx. ''It's push, push, push,'' he said.

This is a guru of decidedly worldly accomplishment. While a young man in the Army, Mr. Redmond was part of a team that built the atomic bomb (albeit such a small part that he didn't know what they were building), and went on to make many millions by inventing a high-speed machine that stamps out most of America's butter patties. Lately, people from all over the world - led by the Japanese- are beating a path to his door to place orders for his latest invention.

''This is bigger than the tin can,'' promised Mr. Redmond, a short, intense man not overly given to reticence.

The invention is a plastic package used to dispense substances - ketchup, for example, or detergent - that can be easily opened with one hand. It looks simple: Two tiny buckets fastened together with a common top and a single central opening. But it took 17 years from inspiration to marketplace. So far, 10 machines that make the packages have been sold for $700,000 each, mostly to big companies. Other potential customers are the United States Army, Disney World and McDonald's.

What Mr. Redmond represents is good old American ingenuity, tenacity and practicality - qualities that many, including him, fear are disappearing. ''I don't think the United States is too competitive in too many things,'' he said.

But he points proudly to a page in the annual report of the Mitsubishi Corporation, owner of the exclusive Japanese patent license to his latest brainchild, trademarked ''dispenSRpak.'' Said the giant company, ''The market potential is enormous.''

Mr. Redmond -who now lives on a Connecticut estate but grew up in Manhattan, where he still has an apartment -learned that his grandfather was an inventor only after he died. His father, a butter wholesaler, tried unsuccessfully to make a better butter-patty machine. Mr. Redmond (who did) came to inventions after serving in the Army at Los Alamos, where the bomb was made, and dropping out of Cornell because he was bored and not getting any younger. His first success was a machine that could wrap 500 frozen packages a minute when larger machines could do just 100.

There is so much Mr. Redmond wants to tell you. Particularly about the new package: When you squeeze the two little buckets together, the substance squirts in a flow so directed you could write your name with it. Almost 99 percent is recovered. Tampering is quickly detectable. It uses less plastic than traditional -and larger - two-hand alternatives. Germans like packages in which one bucket is filled with mayonnaise, one with ketchup. Japanese like mustard and ketchup. Potential markets include salve for babies' bottoms.

Looking very much the conservative businessman in a vested gray flannel suit, Mr. Redmond showed videos of foreign commercials featuring his packages. He also showed a tape of weightless astronauts gleefully squirting peanut butter on crackers.

But why is he doing this in the tattered South Bronx? Where else? His 35-employee organization has been there for a quarter century. It is waterfront property on a major rail line accessibile to everywhere by freeway. ''This area has been the biggest waste of the best industrial property in New York,'' he said.

His interests, though, extend beyond the Bruckner Expressway. ''I'm glad about glasnost,'' he said. ''We're going to do a lot of butter-pat business in Russia.''

When the subject of creativity arises, Mr. Redmond's precise language turns fuzzy. Seemingly, ideas sneak up. Maybe he's looking out an airplane window or watching a football game. ''One day it just occurs to me how to do it,'' he said. His approach differs from that of Edison, who he says locked up hundreds of brilliant engineers until they emerged with a light bulb.